


WIP Hell

by CherFleur



Series: WIP Purgatory [1]
Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Fairy Tail, Multi-Fandom, Naruto, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Multi, Potentially continued in the future, Reincarnation, Self-Insert, Time Travel, WIP things I haven't gotten around to fleshing out, oc-insert, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23919142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur
Summary: Bits of things I've started and haven't gotten around to fleshing out more. Might continue them in the future, and if I do they'll get their own fics.
Relationships: Gildarts Clive & Original Female Character(s), Hatake Kakashi & Original Character(s), Kakuzu & Original Character(s), Okumura Rin & Original Character(s), Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Original Character(s), Youko Kurama & Original character(s), Zuko & Original Character(s)
Series: WIP Purgatory [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724155
Comments: 28
Kudos: 101





	1. Fairy Tail - Found Family

The first thing she felt was shock.

There was too _much_ in that first instance of consciousness, so much that she was overwhelmed.

Air hitting her skin, entering her lungs, and gravity pulling down on her oh so heavy but too light skeleton. Earth spinning beneath her a comfort against the nausea of needing to breath when for so long she’d been encased and immobile, held separate from the world as time moved forward. The blood in her veins seemed to shiver and jolt as it began to flow once again as stasis slid off her skin in a too loud cracking. The tinkling, stretching, _breaking_ of the lacrima that had held her suspended for so long she’d lost count of the years.

Heart trembling in her chest as it restarted, she blinked myopically as she registered several magical signatures near her. Only one of the few that she could register in her disorientation _wasn’t_ tainted by the black and it tasted like power and destruction on the back of her tongue. Glorious, and normally she would have been salivating at the feel of it, hunger paining her stomach for a taste.

The untainted one was situating themselves – himself? – in front of her, clearly in a defensive position.

She hadn’t needed to be protected in so long that that in itself was the most startling, making everything feel more real. What was going on with the tainted ones, that this large magical signature before her would feel the need to shield her?

The world spun slightly as she took in achingly fresh air, coughing out chunks of lacrima as she did, tasting blood on the back of her tongue as soft tissue tore. A dark hand rose up to catch the crystallized shards of magic even as she managed to struggle up to her knees, one fist braced on the floor. Grabbing a larger chunk of the lacrima that had once encased her, she shoved it in her mouth, crunching down and through it easily despite her fatigue. Words in a language she did not understand slid over her ears in a grim growl from the man before her and sibilant condescension from the tainted ones.

Eating forged lacrima when it had been made by her _own_ magic didn’t do much for her in the long run and it certainly didn’t taste good. Though it _would_ temporarily boost her reserves from where her core was nearly scraped raw by time and necessity.

Pretty blue eyes framed by auburn hair glanced back at her and widened as he took in the sight of her teeth and fangs crushing down the lacrima easily. Just into small enough chunks that she could swallow with the magic that brewed in her mouth from the action to strengthen herself. When her hand reached out for him once her core had eased the strain just enough, he almost automatically reached back for her in turn. An instinctive action that said he was used to helping others when they asked for aid, pleasing in a human, though rare.

Her claws clicked softly on his armored forearm as she yanked him down to the ground with her. Drawing in a deep, painful breath despite the ache in her lungs, in the same moment, rearing up onto her knees as he tumbled in surprise down next to her.

And then she Roared.

Though weaker than she’d been in longer than she could currently remember, the destructive power was still enough to burst a hole in the side of the mountain that she had apparently been contained in.

Had there been a mountain here before? She was pretty sure not. It had been a meadow, hadn’t it? Large enough for the Council to land upon, all of them together, various large forms solid and implacable in a circle around her.

To bid her farewell and fare wishes.

Falling back onto her heels and then leaning farther back to fall to the ground solidly with a _whump_ , lying spread-eagle for a long moment, she caught her breath again. As she blinked up at the perfectly arched curve of the ceiling of the cave, she was beginning to think in dazed horror had _built itself around her_.

Beside her, the auburn-haired man with the powerful tasting magic was muttering to himself in what seemed like surprise before he, too, lay back on the ground with a groan and a sigh. He smelled of exhaustion to her sensitive and slightly blinded by lacrima nose.

Meanwhile, one of her hands flopped around looking for lacrima chunks again. Still bland and mostly tasteless except for an aftertaste that really left _much_ to be desired. It did, however, soothe the rasping ache inside of her bones and core that made her want to reach over and take a bite out of the nearest power source. Even with her senses dulled by fatigue and isolation in stasis she could feel the tainted ones flickering out. A few in death and a few in an odd twist of magic that meant teleportation of some kind was in use, though not one a kind she was familiar with.

Which.

Just how long had it been?

Twisting her hips so that her legs and shoulders faced opposite directions, sighing in relief as her stiff back cracked most of the way. It was second nature to ignore the way the man next to her twitched in shock and sent her a disturbed look, simply repeating the move again the opposite direction.

She was so _stiff._

After a few minutes of acclimating her senses again, blinking up at the ceiling of the dome her magic had leaked to build around her in a mountain she decided it was time to get up. The mountain was definitely flavored by her energy and built up to such heights that made her feel a little sick. To be so large, well… it had to have been centuries at least.

At the very, very least.

Carefully, she sat herself up and then studied the human mage next to her, surprised despite herself at his height and build. Last she’d checked, humans didn’t quite grow that large, and that made her even _more_ nervous about how much the world had changed. If his size was any indication to the way the world had evolved in her time hidden away from the rest of reality.

The fact that she’d been awoken by humans at _all_ was perhaps the most troubling thing. Still, considering the fact that the Seeress hadn’t been able to tell her just what it was that she was supposed awaken to, she could accept that.

Even if most of her had been convinced that a dragon would awaken her, that she would close her eyes on the sight of her people and then awaken to them once again. If in a different form or function from her past.

Working her way to standing, she rolled her shoulders and shook out her limbs. Limbs which felt both unbelievably stiff and like overcooked pasta, stretching as much as she could with the jittery feeling coursing through her body.

With a sigh, the man with the surprisingly large magical core stood up as well, seeming a bit surprised at the fact that they were eyelevel with one another before shrugging. Those indecipherable words tumbled from his lips again.

“Yes, well, I have no idea what you’re saying,” she said into the silence that followed whatever he’d said. Smiling wryly as his eyes widened before his shoulders slumped and something rueful slipped over handsome features with nicely sharp cheekbones. “And I can’t exactly learn it until we have enough for base communication.”

They eyed each other for a moment before the human pressed his hand against the leather armor on his chest and said something, annunciating clearly. The same thing several times, which sparked realization in her.

“Gildarts? Or is it Clive?” with a shrug she gestured at him. “I’m going to call you Gil. Hello, Gil.”

Pressing her own claw tipped hand against her scaly armor she said her name without the inflections of Draconic. Because his human ears would make it near impossible for him to decipher, and the lack made her feel a little bereft.

It felt oddly casual, to be addressed by human standards.

“I am Kesia. Ke-si-a.”

“… Kes?”

Laughing slightly, feeling tired and a little worn, completely. Totally aware that she emotional repercussions hadn’t quite hit her all the way yet; the Earth Dragon Mage shook her head in exasperation and gave him a crooked smile.

“Gil and Kes? I guess that’ll work.”

~*~

Traveling with Gil was interesting, to say the least.

She’d rarely traveled with humans before being frozen, meeting with them unnecessary in her daily life. Though she’d gotten over her dislike of them sometime after she’d reached maturity, she’d still been leery of them, since humans tended towards fear and then hostility in reaction to that fear.

Kes didn’t have anything to fear from humans, or, well, she didn’t _used_ to, but it looked like things had changed more than just appearances and one odd human with more magic than she’d seen other humans with. Still, she hadn’t feared for herself against a human since she was a very young hatchling, not since Odanodan had taken her under their wing and then assured her of strength with which to defend herself.

Perhaps it was this human, but things weren’t _nearly_ as boring as they’d been the last time she’d traveled with one. Of course, a lot of their conversation consisted of exaggerated hand motions and single word identifications of things as they slowly worked up something similar to a hatchling’s vocabulary in regard to each other’s languages. The most entertaining thing, however, was how he reacted every time she grabbed something nearby to snack on when they didn’t have more traditional foods readily available. Like red meat, which seemed to be his preference over any vegetables or fish they caught on their journey.

Watching _him_ watch _her_ crunch through a rock or a tree branch was amusing as well as satisfying. Ever since the first hilarious time, he’d slowly become more curious and enthusiastic as he witnessed her eating more and more varied things.

“What you?” she asked as she nibbled on a particularly smooth river stone where they sat at the edge of a creek. “Magic you?”

“My magic?” he was eating jerky, apparently soothed by the fact that he didn’t need to purchase supplies for her to eat as well. “Crash magic. You?”

The monetary system they had over barter in most areas was mind boggling, but Kes didn’t really have any way of questioning if it had been like this for a long time or not. Trade of goods had been more common in her time, though occasionally gems and precious metals had made an appearance in markets and stalls. Pretty things were okay, but Earth hoards tended towards living beings rather than the nonliving things like the other Breeds favored.

Another change.

Also, precious stones and metals tasted the best of unsaturated foods, so they were more for eating than anything else, and she felt sad watching them get exchanged. Honestly, humans didn’t even _eat_ them, why would they need them? Just to _hold_ them? For what?

Such a waste.

“Cra- _sh_?”

Chewing on that word, Kes considered. Did he even know about dragon magic? Did he know about the intelligent dragons or did he only know of their less evolved cousins the wyverns? How exactly did one explain what the word for dragon meant if someone didn’t know what a dragon was?

“What Crash?”

“Uh,” his pretty blue eyes glanced around, searching for something, before he settled on a rock and picked it up in his free hand. “This is Crash Magic.”

And then the rock fell apart.

Her jaw fell open in surprise and her grip loosened in shock, causing the mildly flavored stone to tumble to the ground, clinking with its brethren as her eyes widened at the sight before her. Sudden energy and excitement clicked together in her stunned mind at the sight.

Leaning forward eagerly she poked at the stone shards in his palm, shivering at the magic that saturated them even as she marveled at the fact that she hadn’t felt him manipulating his magic even a little bit. Curiously, she picked a bit of it up, feeling it tingling against her fingertips, still resonating with his magic.

And then she stuck it in her mouth.

The noise he made was amusing as well, strangled though it was, but she was so distracted by the taste of his magic and the way it buzzed against her teeth. Sliding hot and spicy down her throat like it had been seasoned just the right amount not to overwhelm the inherent flavor. Dark skin flushed at the cheeks and her eyes brightened with delight before she reached for another shard of the little rock that sat in his hand and popped that into her mouth as well. Rolling it around on her tongue, she rumbled in pleasure at the tang his magic had, much more filling and enjoyable than the unsaturated Earth that she could subside on.

One could eat bread or potatoes for every meal, but on occasion it was nice to have cheese or butter to flavor it. This was a full-blown candied _treat_ , however!

Oh, she could get _used_ to this kind of sustenance.

“Is good!” she said brightly, pleased with his destructive magic, but happier about the prospect of flavorful food. “Crash yum!”

The man sighed, aggrieved, before he simply rolled his eyes fondly and slid the bits of rock into her waiting, greedy claw tipped hands. Truly, she had to struggle not to just shove all of it in her mouth at once and instead take her time.

In spite of what she’d like, her system was still adjusting, and a sudden influx of power and nourishment would definitely upset her precarious balance.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said wryly, and she mostly understood him. “But what’s your magic?”

“Hmm, what word…” with a moue of disappointment when the treat was gone, Kes tapped a claw on her bottom lip. “ _Dragon _magic?”

“ _Dragon_?” the word was stiff and odd on his tongue, and he only had confusion on his face, though he looked as if he felt he _should_ know what the word meant. “What’s it like?”

“Um…”

Twisting, she dipped a clawed hand into the dirt and slid her magic down into it as well, molding it into the shape she wanted. A tiny simulacrum of a dragon that looked remarkably like Odanodan climbed out of the ground and up her arm as she pulled her hand out of the ground.

Only to hold it up to Gil’s face to find him surprisingly pale, his eyes gone wide with shock.

“Dragon,” he breathed, gaze flickering from the gallivanting golem to her face and back again. “ _Dragon _means Dragon. You’re a Dragon Slayer. Oh my god, they weren’t lying.”

“Dragon?” curling the word around her tongue she shrugged. He’d recognized a dragon, so she felt momentary relief. “What is Slayer?”

“To kill.”

“Kill…?”

Like when they hunted birds for meat, they hunted dragons? To… Oh, oh _no_.

Dragon _killer_? They called Dragon Magic, Dragon Killing Magic?

Who had used the magic they’d been gifted to _murder her people_ enough that they changed what they called it?

Rage flickered at the corners of her vision and she bared her fangs at him. Growling deep in her chest at the very notion that someone who had been bestowed with the very power of dragons, who _was_ a dragon themselves, would stoop to _murdering their own kind._ It wasn’t Gil that she was angry with, it was _time_ that she was furious with, it was _time_ that was her enemy. Because try as she might she would never be able to kill those who had tainted the memory of her people in such a way.

Who had changed the definition of who she was into something antithesis of everything she stood for, of the people whom she had protected and sacrificed for. Just one or even a few people over a period of time deciding to murder their fellows was one thing? But this? This _sacrilege_?

… how _many_ were…

It would take a _slaughter_ to rename an entire craft of magic.

Jumping swiftly to her feet, construct crumbling in her hand, she stalked away, ignoring the way that the ground was trembling with the force of her rage and grief, the sudden onslaught of emotion. Distance, she needed _distance_.

Hysterically, she thought how much more distant could she _get_ , too long and too far in the future to do anything about this.

Furious tears burned her eyes as she pressed her claws back through her hair, feeling the gems, stones and bones that were woven into the white of her mane. Gifts from friends who were likely long dead imbued with magical energy – emergency fuel if the situation became dire – panting against the pounding in her ribcage as she fought for control.

Time was an enemy that she could not fight.

When the world had stopped shaking, she had finally managed to calm herself, rubbing her hands furiously over her face before the tension rolled out of her body on a long, tired sigh.

“Dragon Slayer,” her words were tired as she turned to look at Gil, who while a little wary, also seemed sad for some reason. “Not Dragon Magic? Not Dragon _Mage_? Is… Dragon _Killer_.”

“I’m sorry.”

The sincerity brought a sad, weary smile to her face and she shook her head and took a deep breath and released it again. There was nothing to be done about it after all. It hurt, as things did in the living, but she couldn’t change the past no matter how dearly she wished to.

Pressing her hands together from fingertips to the heels of her hands, she used the pressure to ground herself.

“I am no Slayer. No Killer of Dragons,” she told him, determination burning in her eyes. “I am _Mage_. Like you are a _Mage._”

“A Dragon Mage,” Gil laughed and stepped into her space once more, again within reach, trusting that she had control of herself again. “I’m gonna assume _Mage _is the same as Mage. I’m a Crash Magic Mage. You’re a Dragon Magic Mage.”

“Yes.”

Beaming at him, she closed the distance and threw her arm around his shoulders and let those negative emotions slide away to be examined and dealt with another time. One when she had made herself a Den in which to be safe.

There, she would grieve.

“Now. More yummy Crash?”

The man gave a beleaguered sigh, but his eyes crinkled at the corners like he was amused at her exuberance.

Now, was time to live.


	2. BNHA - Fix It

This is how they meet:

A tall, muscular blonde in blue and silver spandex is holding up a building with one hand and flinging nearby loose stones at a superfast opponent with the other. An opponent who is trying to get to the civilians that the man is keeping the building from crushing, so that he can do something nefarious. The blonde man is _very_ well filled out, and his suit leaves little about his musculature to the imagination.

It’s a sight treated so commonplace, that still, after all these years, makes her take a moment to reassess the weirdness that is her life, despite the fact that she can pretty much stand on air.

It doesn't make sense, but this is her reality.

She’s seen him on the TV before, the large muscular blonde man.

An up and coming household name in the recent year. Rising star in the ranks. He’s starting to become known even outside of Japan without doing more than a few foreign cooperative jobs. He probably has this handled, has the stamina to outlast pretty much any villain out there, but she can Sense a secondary villain trying to sneak up from the other side. Still, even if he’s good enough to take care of it himself, she doesn’t want to risk innocent lives banking on it when she can do something about it.

The reason she’d even decided to become a Hero, was because she didn’t want to be the kind of person who could watch someone else suffer. Who could just say _oh, well, somebody else will take care of it, it’s not my problem._

It wasn’t that she wanted the responsibility, that she wanted to be the _one_ to save those peoples’ lives it was just that… Well, she’d been the victim once, and there had been people who could’ve helped her, but didn’t.

The agony of watching someone walk away, the resignation, the destruction of hope and faith in the goodness of humanity… she didn’t wish that on anyone.

It’s the work of a moment to drop to the ground from where she’d been hanging in the air behind him and flick out a barrier for the superfast man to run into. Coincidentally knocking him unconscious. Before she then slid a barrier between the large man and the building to hold it up in his place so that he can punt the metallic woman who leaps at them into the barrier that surrounds her unconscious partner. The silvery, smoky sheen of a Stage 1 Barrier held the building in place as her Sense rippled over it, steadying the crumbling bits with smaller category barriers and enshrouding and protecting the people still inside until emergency services could arrive with a Relief Hero to aid them.

“Thanks for the Assist!”

Turning towards the booming voice, the tall woman tilted her armored head in acknowledgment, her armor stamped with her country of origin on the chest so that there was no confusion with the local heroes, since they didn’t know of her yet. She wasn’t widely known outside of the U.S., for all that she wasn’t super famous there, but they had plenty of Heroes to aid them back home. Stationed by state and region, with networked warpers and teleporters who could aid in the distance trek in the cases that required the most powerful to move from one side of the continent to the other.

She was actually just joining the North Western Coalition to guard that section of the U.S. and Canada, meaning that she often worked both foreign and domestic jobs, and had on a few occasions been required for East Coast work and disaster relief.

Hurricanes still existed, even with weather quirks.

They’d learned not to try manipulation on that scale a long time ago.

“Ah, how nice to meet a foreign hero! Tell me, what should I call you!?”

A few moments of silence as she configured her communicator to broadcast its mechanical voice. Normally, she didn’t bother, but as it was her first time doing work in Japan, they didn’t know of her preference for silence with her Hero persona. Back home, she even used sign language shorthand when doing interviews, so that she didn’t have to worry about dealing with her communicator with the media. Unfortunately, she didn’t know Japanese Sign Language yet, so the automata would have to do.

“ **Dark Lady**.”

“Nice to meet you! I, am All Might!”

He had a nice, wide, genuine smile, and she couldn’t help but smile back behind her armor, tail flicking behind her as she looked up at the man. One who would one day be the Number One Hero of Japan, and perhaps the world.

“ **The Pleasure Is Mine. Blondie.** ”

“Ah! A nickname!”

His laugh was a little ridiculous, though. Shaking her head in bemusement, she flapped her hand at the ridiculous man, as if trying to shoo him away even as the emergency services and the media began to descend upon them. One much more welcome than the other.

_I came here to meet you, All Might, and perhaps change the future. I don’t remember a lot, but I know you’re important._

That he was cute, too, was just a bonus.

~*~

“Ah, Lady! How good to see you again!”

Flicking her tail in acknowledgement, the Hero known as Dark Lady continued to watch the hubbub of Tokyo far, far beneath her. Wondering at all the many wondrous Quirks she could Sense, all the fantastical things that they did. Her life before death had been boring and normal, but nothing about this new life, of Heroes and Villains, was _normal_ or _boring._

There were people with wings who just flew wherever once they got a proper license – that was a thing, a flying license that meant _wings_ and _public aerospace_ – and people who phased through objects as if they weren’t there but couldn’t touch things like silicone at all.

Which was weird, actually.

Synthetic materials were a problem with phasing Quirks, ridiculously, though no one had been able to figure out why just yet. It wasn’t her area of expertise, but it was interesting, nevertheless.

“Might I join you?”

Blinking, she turned to look at All Might – she’d known his true name once, but it had been a lifetime since then, and she was kind of glad she couldn’t remember – and gestured easily at the air next to her. A thought had shimmery almost unseen barrier forming for him to stand on. Like nothing, the man jumped 70 feet in the air and landed gracefully on her proffered platform, settling down on his knees while she sat comfortably in crisscross. He was like a real-life Superman, and while in her first life she hadn’t exactly been the Man of Steel’s biggest fan – preferring more flawed heroes – she could definitely see the appeal with All Might. Who was too human and empathetic to be anything but likeable.

At least, to some degree.

The act was something that all public heroes became familiar with, and it could be tiring.

“Would you like some?”

Examining the bag of what looked to be burgers, she inclined her head and reached out an armored hand, retracting the clawed tips. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to try them yet, unsure of the cultural differences in the American staple. While she hadn’t worked up the courage, mainly buying groceries – or rather, sending an assistant out to fetch her groceries – so that she could cook things on her own. Other than noting that some flavors were stronger or sweeter than usual, it wasn’t all that different than what she was used to.

There were a lot of fish flavored snacks that she didn’t know what to do with, though.

“ **Thank You** _._ ”

“You’re welcome! Always willing to help out another Hero!”

“ **I’ll Buy Next Time** _._ ”

Retracting the bottom of her mask – it slid apart in the middle, an idea she’d gotten from Transformers – she bit into the burger, tail twitching at the surprising taste of teriyaki. It wasn’t bad, but she eyed it for a moment before shrugging and digging in.

She’d had a protein shake and some sausage rolled in a pancake for breakfast that morning and a quick granola bar and banana for lunch because she’d stopped a robbery instead. To be honest, she’d been looking forward to trying Ramen or the other most known foods of Japan before she inevitably had to go back to the States. Even if it was starting to look like she was going to be working more than they’d predicted.

The burgers, though, were a pleasant surprise from pleasant company.

Maybe she would ask for some vacation time before she headed back to the States, just a week or so, so that she could sample some of the culture without all the time pressure.

All Might could be a little loud and boisterous, but he was genuinely kind, and her Sense told her that he meant everything he was saying when he talked to others within her range. Meant everything he was saying to her. It was refreshing, how honest the man with so much power was, when there were those out there whose very existence was coated in lies and ichor.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his Quirk read funny to her Sense, something that tickled at her memory about the boy he’d take on as his apprentice. Lady couldn’t quite remember, and it wasn’t that important. It’d come out if it was.

“That’s not necessary,” she flicked her metal covered tail against his side in rebuke and he squirmed. That was a ticklish spot, as she well Knew. “Ahahah… urgh, but, ah, if you insist.”

“ **Don’t Argue** _._ ”

“Well, then. Should we arrange to meet for our next meal, fellow Hero?”

“ **No** _,_ ” she ate calmly while her automated system spoke for her, tiny barriers flickering over tiny keys to make words. “ **I’ll Find You** _._ ”

“… In such a voice, that sounds ominous, Dark Lady.”

Turning to him with a mouthful of burger tucked in one cheek, she grinned widely, sharp dainty fangs glinting as she wiggled her tail playfully behind her. The large man chuckled in turn, shoving an entire burger in his mouth, making her roll her eyes behind her one-way mirrored visor. Swallowing, she shoved the rest of the burger into her mouth before closing her battle mask and waving cheerfully as she dismissed the barrier holding her up in the air.

Enjoying the way he shouted in surprise, panicking as if she would do the same to him despite the way that the barrier stayed solid beneath him while she fell.

Freefall was fun, but it was more fun when All Might was fussing.

He was such a dear.

~*~

“ **Blondie** _._ ”

“Hrk!” jerking in surprise, All Might spun around from where he was shmoozing with the press to see her standing behind him with two paper bags of burritos. “A-ah, Dark Lady! I didn’t see you there. How are you, fellow Hero?”

Twitching her tail at him in amusement she tilted her helm towards the suddenly intensely interested media. Who all suddenly inched forward, practically shining with curiosity about the foreign hero that had been spotted repeatedly with their new star.

“ **It Is Lunch** _,”_ she said in her flat, automated voice. “ **Questions Will Wait** _.”_

“Oh, but, excuse us, Darku Lady-san, just a few questions –“

Frowning at them behind her mask, she sighed, barely twitching as she handed All Might the two lunch bags. He watched her ready to intimidate the local press with her silent demeanor and eerie synthetic voice, as was her habit.

Her Sense had her tail flickering out to intercept the villain that escaped from one of the police officers – she wasn’t quite sure what his Quirk was, but he stopped all the same – that All Might had handed his foes off to. The metal coated appendage wrapped around the man’s neck tightly and she shook him with the deceptively strong, long limb. Lady loosened it only just enough so that she wouldn’t slit his throat when she released the blade attachment to hold it against his throat.

He paled beneath red skin until he looked a sickly peach at the telltale _snikt_ sound of an unsheathing blade, stilling in a pleasing manner.

Tilting her head towards the man just enough that he knew she was looking at him she tried to portray as much irritation as she could with silence and body language. While sometimes she wished that she could properly portray herself without words or facial expressions in her Hero Persona, she also liked the bit of anonymity she did manage to keep.

Her voice was rather distinctive, unfortunately.

“ **It. Is. Lunch** _._ ”

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” the low level villain looked like he was going to cry as the police started to take him into hand once again. “Please, forgive me.”

Placing a hand on her hip, metal clicking together strangely loud in the silence that followed when she sheathed her tail blade. Lady then regarded the press again with the full weight of her attention, tail twitching behind her in agitation.

“ **Lunch** _._ ”

“Ah, um, yes, of course, Darku Lady-san. A-Another time then…”

Nodding once in satisfaction, she took back one of the bags from the smiling, puzzled but a little amused All Might. Flicking her fingers in a gesture for him to lead the way to where he wanted to have lunch that day was automatic. Usually it was in the air somewhere where they could keep an eye on everything down below them, answering any urgent calls quickly and concisely. A few times they had sat in a park or garden, making sure there weren’t too many people around.

Once, they’d eaten at All Might Offices, but that had kept getting interrupted by Night Eye, who kept on staring at her weirdly.

“Was that quite necessary?” used to her brand of humor, he barely twitched when she answered.

“ **Media Journalists Are Often Collateral Damage In America. Highest Fatality Rate After Civilians And Underground Heroes** _._ ”

Someone gulped behind her and she smiled, tail twisting behind her with amusement.

“ **We Also Have The Death Penalty For Repeat Offending Villains** _._ ”

A whimper.

That’s right. Stay out of the U.S. foreign villains.

They had enough problems with the ones that were home grown.

The two of them were well aware that the press were still recording, so when they leapt up onto one of her Barriers, they angled so that their fist bump was unseen by the masses below them. While All Might was indulgent and genuinely cared about everyone, trying to give as much of himself as possible, Lady was of the opinion that everyone deserved a break now and then.

So if she had to play the bad cop to his good cop so that he could eat, well…

She didn’t mind not being the favorite.

They were all Heroes, anyway.


	3. ATLA - Character Development

“Did you hear?”

He ignored the other crew members of the ship he had been assigned to as best he could, carefully going over the knotted rope in the storeroom as they gossiped in the hallway. If the lengths were wrong before they set sail then it could lead to disasters, especially once leads were needed for storms and nets to be cast. If they were incorrectly measured then people could die, if edges were frayed or braided haphazardly then the rope could snap. People could die. If the rope wasn’t properly coated in sealant, people could die; and that was not something he wanted on his conscience.

He honestly had enough psychological issues to deal with as it was.

Well, that and he liked being thorough.

It was almost meditative to take care of the monotonous task of running his hands over heaving lines and tie downs. Sure, his hands sometimes got burrs and slivers stuck down under his calluses, but it wasn’t so bad really.

He barely noticed that kind of pain. That it even _was_ pain.

Cook had said that his tolerance was definitely the worst skewed thing about him, but honestly, Léi disagreed.

His head was the most messed up part of him, and he didn’t have the time or money to talk to a psychologist of some sort.

So, checking ropes and other supplies to make sure that the one steady lifeline he had in his colleagues around him, was looking after his own mental health.

One could even say he liked the crew. Most of the time. The vast majority of the time.

On occasion they were like siblings that he’d never particularly thought about having but had somehow crammed into existence with him. All of whom were older than him and slightly unhappy with everything around them because why not.

Except the food, because Cook was awesome.

Cook was the best. Cook also had a real name, Yujin, but everyone just called him Cook, or Uncle, because he was a beloved figure on the ship.

“About the Prince, you mean?”

“Yeah, I heard that the Fire Lord made him participate in a duel of Agni Kai against him! The boy's barely of age to even _accept_ a challenge, and his father demanded a duel of him. Wouldn’t even accept surrender! I know that the royal family is unreasonable at times, but that seems ridiculously out of control.”

With a jolt he felt his eyes widen and stared down at the tight, neat coils in his hands; the supply officer would be pleased with his work. His mouth was suddenly dry and his heart rate rocketing up with the sudden upheaval in his stomach.

So, it had happened.

He’d… hoped that it wouldn’t. Perhaps foolishly, but still, he had hoped.

“Isn’t that a bit… _harsh_ though?” one of the men asked quietly, tone perturbed. He spoke the word ‘harsh’ as others would _barbaric._ “I mean, the Prince is only a boy…”

“Shh! Do you want to get in trouble?”

“Don’t question it!”

The voices drifted away as the sailors moved away, likely above decks to check rigging before they headed out to a bar to get completely smashed for the last time before they set out on the water.

Although he found himself frozen for some time, staring down at his hands on the rope, he managed to swallow around the large dry lump in his throat and continue with his work, his expression feeling pinched and too pale on features that were already rather pale. He had a problem with insomnia, and generally lead to a less than satisfactory complexion, even for his nationality. He tended towards having bruised bags beneath his eyes due to the relentless anxiety he suffered.

Léi was the kind of person who lay awake at night thinking about all the things he’d done wrong and what he could have done better.

There was nothing that he could do for Prince Zuko, who had been burned for _caring_ about the troops under the protection of the Fire Nation. For daring to speak out against the man who had sent thousands to their deaths without a second thought, only thinking of his own glory and the power he wielded. All he could do – despite how he itched to _do something,_ he understood _–_ was to continue to live his life. He needed to continue to serve and hopefully, _survive_ until the day that the boy cast aside his grief-stricken ideals of honor, stopped clinging to the hope for his abusive father’s love. For when Zuko stood up for himself, for what he believed in, until the boy became a young man, ascending the throne as a _proper_ Fire Lord with the backing of the young Avatar.

With that thought in mind, the reincarnated boy continued to organize the storeroom to make sure that everything they needed was in the room. Cataloging and noting what had yet to make it below decks before making his way up top to give his list to the Supply Officer.

It wasn’t like he’d ever meet the Prince, so he would just continue as he had been.

Day by day.

~*~

He had been wrong.

Oh he had been _so, so wrong._

He’d never been more _wrong_ in his _life_. Either of them.

“It is a great honor to be chosen by the members of the Royal Family to bear you forth on your journey, General Iroh, Prince Zuko,” the Captain was saying with a smile while _he_ stood with wide eyes amongst his fellow sailors and stared ahead of himself, thoughts more than a little hysterical with the turn of events. “We hope to serve you well.”

 _Hahahahaha… oh my god I’m going to_ vomit _…_

“I assure you,” the pleasantly calm voice of the Dragon of the West spoke easily, tone one that had not a note of the tiredness that pinched at his sharp, observant eyes. “The pleasure is that of myself and my nephew.”

“Yes,” the silent boy who looked to be perhaps a year or two younger than he himself was spoke for the first time, the bandage on his features taking up the majority of his expression. Something like pain lanced through his chest at the soft, tired, raspy cadence of the Heir's voice, the dry discomfort that was laced through his tone was conveyed through the tensed facial muscles to hold still the damaged side of his face. “Please do take care of us, Captain.”

What were the chances, right?

Haha, oh god this was horrible.

Still, the part of him that had once been a big brother felt the simmering cold heat of anger at the thought that that pain had been caused by the boy’s _father_. The one who was supposed to protect and cherish him most in the world other than his mother, whom he knew had vanished years before.

So with a heavy heart and a nervous mind, he stood at attention with the rest of the crew until the Captain had taken them below decks for a tour. Their ship was older and definitely not up to royal standards, not luxurious in the least. It made sense that the Fire Lord would have sent his disgraced son out on a ship that denoted a distinct disregard for him and his task.

The tension in his shoulders, back and neck wasn’t likely to leave any time soon.

That and the weight of dread in his stomach.

~*~

With a crew of 32 there really wasn’t much in the way of privacy.

It was difficult to avoid interacting with the two members of the Royal Family onboard the old gunboat, but he somehow managed it for a solid two months. Something that was rather impressive, he could admit to himself later. While enduring the somewhat exasperated ribbing of the older crewmates and the sympathetic amusement of Lieutenant Jee every time he would bale from a room to avoid them.

The jitters, stuttering and cold sweat that would break out across his skin would have him wringing his hands and rubbing at his cursed eye. Have wide shoulders hunched up to his ears as he struggled to fade into the woodwork, his crewmates just rolling their eyes and shooing him off.

Hell, even the Captain had helped him, with a longsuffering glance up towards the heavens to ask for strength, to escape a time or two when his breathing had gotten too sharp and fast. When Léi’s eyes got too wide with the possible onset of hysteria at the proximity to royalty and all of the ways that he could _royally_ fuck things up with even an offhand motion.

It… didn't help that he had had problems with the higher class already, their ability to order him about and ruin his life more than a bit terrifying.

While he didn’t know what exactly the whole Butterfly Effect idea – theory, whatever – was, he knew enough to know that his presence, his every action, could endanger the future he knew. Had probably already changed things as he had known them despite his best efforts to be unobtrusive, to be inconsequential.

To be honest, he may not have been very good at his efforts despite them _being_ his best, but he’d _tried_.

That had to count for something.

Right?

If he hadn’t had already been known for being a bit shy and standoffish it likely would have garnered some suspicion from the others. However, seeing as he rarely spoke to anyone other than Cook and the Supply Officer unless he absolutely had to, even during sparring, it was looked upon with fondness. Cook told _the best_ stories, didn't mind if he stuttered or didn't say a word, and played around with foreign recipes when he had the time.

At times, it was like he had a rowdy bunch of cousins who were soft on him even if they picked on him sometimes. Kind of like they were of the mind that only _they_ could do so, protective in their own strange way. Well, unless he got sick, and instead of leaving him to his own devices they got ridiculously clingy and nosy.

A ship full of clucking hens…

He was something of the crew pet, being the youngest aboard the ship, which was, oddly enough, filled with a lot of older officers, most of whom had ground pounding experience and were only a couple years from retirement age. Not that many soldiers ever actually _retired_ , as Fire Lord Ozai didn’t exactly approve of leave of service.

Most thought of dying as retiring, unless you were powerful enough to just say ‘screw the system’.

Very few people ever had the ability to say that.

Those who had, were no longer in the Fire Nation and had fled elsewhere. Made lives hidden away from the place that had birthed and burned them.

His streak had to come to an end though, he knew, but he at least would have preferred it not to have been during his morning rituals, which were something private, something for himself that he didn’t have to share with others.

Standing at the bow in his personal clothes because he had a half day off duty with night shift being his primary time of attention, he _breathed._ Léi had his head tilted back as the sun rose above the crest of soft white swells, glittering brightly as the heat shifted in reflection up and against his pale skin _._

Heat rises.

Waves of warmth shivered above the thin cloth on his arms and legs, shimmering like a desert mirage around his body as he dropped into standing meditation. Letting his inner fire reach out towards the great burning gas giant that was the sun so that tiny flickers of flame began to outline every exhale and then shiver over the edges of the blanket of heat he wore like an outline. The Sun’s Embrace was very literal to him these days.

Every breath in was accompanied by a slow beat of his heart, setting the morning greeting pulsing around him in time with the lethargic rhythm. The low burn in his stomach pleasant in his chest and throughout every bone in his body, flushing out any remnants of sleepiness or stress as he let the heat and the light take him.

 _This_ was what firebending was to him.

Most everyone on the boat knew not to disturb him when he was doing his morning meditation, though that didn’t stop some from watching on occasion, even when they weren’t on duty and had to be awake. All fire benders knew when the sun rose, could feel it like the very breath in their lungs, curling wider, bigger, _stronger_ outside of them than their inner fire ever could hope to be. Even the non-benders of the Fire Nation could feel the sunrise and sunset of that great star even if it didn’t affect them in the same way.

“What are you –”

The voice, so close that he felt his brows twitch for a moment, the rhythm of his heart changing for a moment before the silence continued and he fell deep again. A part of him was aware that the voice was one he wasn’t very familiar with, but most of him concentrating on nothing but the heat, his eyes having fallen shut while he waited for the great orb in the sky to clear the glittering line of the horizon and rise completely into the sky.

“What is he doing?”

The voice spoke again but this time softer and easier to think of as the soft splashing of the waves against the hull, blending with the cadence of his breathing.

“Have you not heard of the Outer Islands, my nephew?”

Something about that voice was more familiar than the other one, but he just continued to breathe.

“Yes, Uncle, I have _heard_ of the Outer Islands.”

“Well, you must not have heard that they have traditions for greeting the sun in the mornings and bidding farewell in the evenings, each a little different depending on the island. This one is from hmm, Orinas, I believe, though I have not seen them all so perhaps I am mistaken. It has been quite some time since I have been, after all.”

A few minutes later – maybe, he could never quite tell the amount of time it took, it felt different each sunrise – he opened his eyes, which had fallen shut, the world around him gilded in red and gold like a haze and then he breathed in deeply, halting the pulsing rhythm that ringed him for a moment of stillness. The stillness seemed to last forever and never, before he released that breath, peeling the fire from where it cocooned him and releasing it like embers into the wind, where it traveled for a distance across the water before fading like fireflies in the summer over the soft white caps of gentle waves.

It was like being reborn.

Only, not in the literal sense, because he’d had that experience, and it wasn’t _nearly_ as freeing as one would think. More disturbing and traumatizing than anything else.

After a long moment, he rotated his shoulders to receive some rather satisfying cracks from his joints as he did so, enjoying the loosening of muscles that had been still for too long, the light breeze off the water cooling his heated skin before he turned around to head back below deck for breakfast and froze at the sight that greeted him.

Eyes wide and face reflecting both his shocked unease and embarrassment, he felt like he had swallowed his tongue, unable to make any sound.

Before him stood the irritable Prince Zuko and the amiable General Iroh, looking at him with a mix of borderline unhappiness and interest respectively.

“I do not believe that we’ve met, young man,” the elderly general spoke calmly, kindness in his dark amber gaze. “And considering the length of our voyage so far, that is quite a feat.”

He flushed lightly at the arch of a grayed brow, his gaze flickering down towards the deck as he struggled to remember his manners.

“E-Excuse me,” he managed to stutter out, his voice tight and a little high as he gave a shaky but respectful bow. “I-I am L-Léi, sir,” he flickered a glance over towards the frowning prince and paled a little at the narrowed golden eyes. “I… I hope I didn’t offend you at all…”

The famed General Iroh, Dragon of the West, waved off his apologies with a soft laugh and a vague smile before he beckoned the young sailor forward, Léi truly wishing that he had the capacity to think of an excuse as to _not_ step forward at the man’s behest, but the frozen state of his mind was not allowing this. Someday he was going to kick himself in the teeth for the amount of anxiety that he carried around like a heavy ball of iron all the time, getting him into situations that he couldn't think over his panic at social interaction to escape from.

“That is a fine name,” the older man complimented.

“T-Thank you…”

Awkward seconds of silence.

“Come now, Léi, why don’t you join my nephew and I for tea, hmm?” before he knew what was happening there was a firm grip on his shoulder pulling him along on the opposite side of the future Fire Lord.

_Oh god, why? What did I do to deserve this?_

It wasn’t long until they were situated at a table towards the tower that was set with two chairs for the two Royals’ morning ritual of breakfast above deck, and he had been forced to pull up a nearby crate to sit with them, his back uncomfortably straight, skin pulled just enough to pinch.

“Now, Léi, that was a very interesting morning greeting,” the rich, elegant dialect of the upper class made him sweat slightly, his stilted pidgin common speech pale and clunky in comparison. “You hale from the Outer Islands, do you not?”

“Yes, sir,” he cleared his throat against the tightness, hands pressed together tightly in his lap, fingers trembling and cold. “I do.”

“I was just telling Zuko here that you might be from Orinas,” the man took a deep pull of the scent from the tea in front of him before continuing, filling the awkward silence left between both the Prince and the sailor. “Your use of cyclical breathing was similar to those I’ve seen from that particular island, though there were some discrepancies.”

“Uh, no, sir,” he twitched – read, flinched – a little at the vicious glare from the younger boy. “I’m from… Rintai.”

Instead of the expected grimace at the name of the most commonly attacked of the Outer Isles by the Northern Water Tribe, and thus the weakest and least useful of the Islands, the old war General just nodded grimly with a sad look in his eyes, a weariness that had been much better concealed only moments before weighing over his features. Of course, the understanding was mostly directed towards the mismatched color of the teenage boy’s eyes, something that was easy enough to interpret if you felt the need, or didn’t decide to ignore it all together. He’d rarely run into someone who ignored it all together. Or at all.

He much preferred it when people ignored him.

Léi had been born with one golden amber eye, the kind of color that was expected from any member of the Fire Nation, but doubly so for fire benders such as he, though a touch darker than most firebenders, somewhat honey colored in certain lights and almost orange in others.

His right eye, however, that disturbing, harsh, cold reminder that he tried to never look at, was a pale blue that looked almost silver in the light of the moon that its people hailed from.

A Water Tribe color if there ever was one.

That spoke for itself, in a way that made Léi’s heart heavy and tremble.

Such eyes were a curse.


	4. Naruto - Time Travel

When Kakashi came to consciousness, it was to the scent of something he hadn’t smelled since he was six years old. Before the last bit of his father had faded in their empty house while bloodstains lingered emptily like a taunt.

Family. Clan.

_Pack._

It was the impossibility that struck him first, a heavy dose of it. The warm comfortable reaction he had to it, unfamiliar though it was, second.

Which was what had him considerably alert and disturbed, enough that he ignored the throbbing from his body as he took stock of his situation. 

The first and most alarming thing he noticed, being that someone had removed his porcelain, chakra reinforced ANBU mask. Which bore the designation of Wolf painted on the surface in precise, Seal protected delicate silver and black lines. The drained feeling in his coils told him that he had once again exhausted his reserves on another mission that had quickly to gone south as a number of his missions had been of late. The intel more than a little wrong about their opposition, troubling though this fact was, and what they might face in regards to their target.

Where he remembered his side being wounded by a flung kunai, there was nothing but a dull throbbing that told him someone had cleaned and sewn the slice closed which any of his team could have done. The broken fingers on his left hand from blocking the strike of a taijutsu specialist targeting Crow, one from the Kumo section of the Bingo Book, were set and stiff in the way that spoke of chakra healing. Which none of them were particularly good at.

The hardy build that he had received at the behest of genetics was helping him recover quickly from the shock of awakening in such a strange circumstance. He could tell that it had barely been hours since he must have collapsed into unconsciousness from impaling the lead missing nin with a Lightning Blade that had taken to much chakra. The one that had wounded Cat and been going for Bear and the unconscious Owl.

While he didn’t know what had happened to the rest, he was confident in the skills of his team. If he had not scented and sensed reinforcements coming from the enemy, then he wouldn’t have worried about the remaining two adversaries that he’d left to them with his collapse, but…

But he had, which didn’t explain why he could scent Cat, Crow, and Owl in what appeared to be a cave with him, as well as his Summon and that strange amalgamation of scents that made him think of family.

Opening his eye with a wince of pain at the immediate sharp lance of pain that spiked through his skull at the action, he shifted his head to look down at the pug next to him. Pakkun had been his companion since he was seven years old, as familiar as anything, and yet he found those large half lidded eyes looking back at him with the strangest expression he’d ever seen on that wrinkly dog face.

“What?”

He grunted out quietly, low enough that with the distance he judged between himself and the other people in the cave only his companion would hear him. It took a surprising _lack_ of effort on his part, which was both pleasant and disgruntling.

“Status?”

“Well…” the Summon trailed off for a long moment, shifting a little where his warm body was curled up against the ANBU operative’s. “It’s a little… complicated.”

As his brows furrowed, his attention shifted instinctively as part of that strangely familial scent wafted closer. The barest sound of the ground being disturbed could be heard as the weight of whoever it was approaching moved over the ground in elegant, clean motions evenly distributing said mass. When his single open eye flickered upward, his body tensing at the unfamiliar but still strangely soothing scent came into range of sight, he felt as if his heart had stopped in his chest. Kakashi’s breath halted on a sharp inhalation as he stared at the mostly covered features above himself, the frankly startling similarities catching every bit of his attention.

Shadowed silvery white hair was cut as smoothly as it could be straight across a pale forehead, from each temple two thin braids stretched back over softly pointed elfin ears into a hairstyle that he couldn’t fully make out from his stationary horizontal position. Though there was a strangely comforting amount of spikiness to the bangs that stopped a little above brows and the loose flyaway here and there. Set beneath those brows with a naturally unimpressed tilt to the arches, that were slightly thicker and a little darker than his own were, were two dark blue eyes that glimmered faintly in the light.

Reflecting in the way that his own did if he wasn’t suppressing the entirety of his white chakra so as to appear just as everyone else did, with only his silver hair as a marker of his Clan. In the grand scheme of things, there were plenty of people with white and silver hair out there in the world. A good number of them were even shinobi, though there was no predisposition towards brightly colored hair and the ninja arts.

The skin was a shade darker than his own that he could see surrounding eyes that were a tad larger than his, as well as slightly rounder. With dark ashy lashes that were a bit singed on one side in a way he was familiar with from being too close to a fire jutsu’s backwash, or a fire based explosive tag.

Set over the arch of a nose he could tell was softer and smaller than his own, was a dull metal bar that curved over from ear to ear. Sloping over the contours of softer cheekbones and appearing to hold affixed thicker, rougher cloth than what his own mask was made of. On either side of where their mouth likely was, was a dark mesh material that blended in rather well and allowed for cool air to filter through. Truly, if he hadn’t been so intent on studying the creature above him, he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

As it was, he was well versed in masks such as this, and it was like looking into the annals of the Hatake Clan from before they had joined up with the Senju during the inception of Konohagakure. More than a century before. When the chakra cloth that eased his sense of smell in crowded areas had yet to be created by the Nara and Hyuuga as a sign of their alliance.

The thick, rough cloth trailed down the neck, though it was connected to a protective collar of similar matte, scratched metal. Which looked like it had caught more than a few kunai and fangs in protection of the individual’s throat against adversaries, something that had been standard gear for the Clan when they had been larger and harsher.

During the Clan Wars.

There was no tack vest over their chest and abdomen. Just similar thick material with wire mesh woven in, metal bracers on each forearm and reaching from the metal collar that stretched the length of their neck to curl over collarbones and shoulders. Possibly trailing farther back where he couldn’t see. Curved over the chest was a plate of unadorned metal that ended at the sides to turn into darkly tanned, scarred leather that had likely been treated with chakra to be almost as tough as the metal was.

It looked like there were a few links of metal that made up bars covering the leather as well. The only reason he could see it at all because something had ripped a number of the two fingers’ width plates from the apparatus.

Bound tightly around the stomach the thicker cloth had several layers of the wire mesh, though it looked as if it had been fixed by hand at some point. The left side was a little worn and jumbled up, with more metal plates covering vital points and where the damage seemed to have been incurred. Metal bracers covered shins in that same battered, torn metal, and mesh could be seen at the back of the bend of the knee where they sat calmly in seiza beside him.

Pale hands laid flat and relaxed on dark clothed thighs with thick, metal spotted dark pouches sitting on one hip and trailing farther back, a length of thick fabric bandages on the opposing sides thigh.

Those thin, slightly smaller than his own hands, were tipped with thick yet elegant, carefully maintained, _impressive_ claws.

His own fingers twitched, nail beds aching because when the Clan had diminished to having fewer members than ten, such blatant shows of the Hatake heritage had ceased to come forward. Unlike with the prosperous and less violently inclined Inuzuka, who had never fought in the same aggressive way that the Hatake of old used to, each day a battle.

In a way, Kakashi had been strange in having the heightened senses of his forebears after generations of dulled noses and ears, a throwback to times gone by. His father hadn’t understood exactly what it was that had caused a good deal of the Kakashi’s fits when he’d been younger, pre-genin, until he’d tested his sensitivity to stimuli and found that a lot of scents and sounds overwhelmed his young untrained senses. Then he had dug up an old mask for him to wear to keep his nose under control, and taught him how to shield his ears with chakra.

This close, he could almost taste the Hatake blood in them, and he felt the longing to yank his own mask down and scent them. Like he had been contently drowning alone, and they were the first taste of air that he’d forgotten he needed. Kakashi's chest ached.

So _alone_ for so long…

Chakra bonds that had been severed stung at the hum of blood kin.

He didn’t, however, pull his mask off like a lunatic. Simply stared at them with his single open eye, wondering what the hell was going on. Feeling like someone had smacked him over the head with a decanter full of rocks, a mixture of sharp and blunt ones.

“Pakkun,” he said lowly, a hint of displeased rumble in the name, causing the dog to squirm slightly. “What is this?”

“Ah, well… this is Rika,” the pug muttered, pressing against his side tighter. “You were mostly unconscious when you Summoned us to keep the two pups out of trouble and take care of your injured pack mates. But, well, the odds weren’t in our favor, even if we outnumbered the missing nin in pursuit. We might’ve been able to take care of them, but we most likely would’ve lost Owl, and Crow would’ve gotten injured badly. Then, suddenly, there was…”

Pakkun trailed off tellingly. The jounin barely noticed as the glum dog glanced a little worriedly between his Summoner and the person clearly of Hatake heritage calmly, tiredly, and a little ruefully studying the man in turn.

“My team?”

Sharingan no Kakashi finally asked the most important question after several long seconds of silence, deciding to forgo speaking about their obvious familial connection for now.

Tilting a pale head of hair, blue eyes glanced in the direction that he could sense them in and made no moves towards him as he slowly sat up. Not taking his eye off of the one named Rika as he did so, ignoring the soft, curious grumble that they released as he shifted from sitting to standing to move towards his teammates. Sitting up next to the unconscious Owl were Crow and Cat, Bear nowhere in sight as he slowly made his way over to the weary looking Uchiha with his maskless features, and the equally weary appearing Mokuton user who’s mask was also not in place over his face.

The two least likely members to break protocol, and here they were.

It was entirely against regulations for any member of an ANBU unit to be without their mask in the presence of outsiders of the organization, especially on a mission. Honestly though, Kakashi found it hard to care when it was clear that they’d had the shit kicked out of them. Bruises blooming fiercely on pale flesh and uncharacteristically messy hair sitting on dark locks with coagulated blood glopped in.

Relief flashed over their features as he knelt down in front of his youngest team member, the prodigy that they had assigned to him. Kakashi set his slightly stiff injured hand on the boy’s shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze of reassurance as he visually checked how Genma was doing, ignoring the ache in his bones.

“The woman, Rika, has some skill with healing,” Tenzō told him softly, though Kakashi was aware that her senses were likely sharper than his own, her heritage much clearer than his was, throwback or not. “There was poison on the blades that pierced him, but she managed to remove it and sealed the wounds. Mostly he’s recuperating from blood loss at the moment, but she said it would be best not to move him for a day or so, since his internal damage isn’t something she could fix without proper assistance and surgery.”

“Your leg?” he asked, finally sitting down completely, easing the ache in his side. “Have you seen to it? And Bear?”

“Stress fracture,” came to him quietly from the left, and his own storm cloud dark eye connected with twin black. “She braced and wrapped it, but if he’s not careful he’ll break it. If we get into another skirmish it’s likely that he will be forced to be stationary. Bear is on watch outside.”

“And you?”

“I…” pale lips twitched slightly, and eyes tightened with unease, before exhausted features smoothed into some semblance of control again. “Other than learning that the reinforcements were specifically after my eyes, I have sustained minor injuries, thanks to the intervention of outside forces.”

The jounin stiffened at the words, his lips tightening beneath his mask at the information. He seriously needed to sit down with the Hokage and figure out where the fuck these information leaks were coming from.

Because if the knowledge of who wore the Crow mask had gotten out, who knew _what_ else had been compromised.

“They didn’t appear to know that it was myself who bore the Sharingan,” there the kid went, reading his mind, although it was a logical leap of thought. “But they were aware that a member of our team bore it. They could have potentially been after you, but it is unlikely.”

Yes, a third hand eye wasn’t as profitable as getting it from the source.

“After we received… assistance, the majority of your Summons un Summoned, as they’d been dealing with the bulk of the attack and were either injured or exhausted,” Tenzō joined in again, rubbing a hand absently against his leg. “Pakkun stayed with us though, since he could potentially call the others should something go wrong, but he didn’t think something would. How he got that impression, I don’t know, even if they seem to be –”

Interrupting the confirmation of the pale haired jounin’s suspicion of their being more than one person who had given off that vibe of family, was the sound of someone cursing and an explosion. Flash stepping to the door, he was a step behind the woman named Rika, who was only an inch shorter than he was. He noticed absently that her hair was held back in a single long braid that trailed down her back to just above her waist, with subtly placed razor wire weaved into the pale strands of hair.

_Well,_ he thought absently, tiredly, even as Itachi came up to his side, leaving Tenzou with their wounded comrade. _At least I found Raido._

The man in question was struggling with two more missing nin, clearly tired and not at his best.

As she took in the sight next to him, Rika growled lowly in irritation at the sight of a tripped trap on the edge of the tree line around the clearing before a cliff face that the cave they were in was situated. It was an instinctive response to huff back at her with his own displeasure at the situation. Well, shit. He pushed the glance he received from those curious dark blue eyes behind him as he felt his smallest Summon press against his ankle. Though Genma’s usual partner in crime appeared displeased with the whole debacle, he was holding his own well enough, seeing as he was the one out of all of them except for perhaps Itachi who was in the best condition.

That was, he was rather simply holding his own until a third man popped out of the ground seamlessly behind him, unnoticed and silent. Even as the two of them tensed so as to intervene, they didn’t have the time to move before the man was shoved – read, _slammed_ – into the ground once again. Though instead of melting into it he left something of a small crater behind as his spine and neck snapped on impact, body folding with seemingly no resistance to the greater force exerted against him. Oh, that was a lot of blood all at once.

The sound and vibration startled the three remaining combatants, though oddly enough – or perhaps not so – it was the Konoha nin who was the least troubled by the impact behind him. Raido used his adversaries’ distraction to his advantage, managing to off one of them, though the other eluded him.

The second one had his throat simply torn out by a quick, efficiently moving hand in an impressive flashing blur of speed, and then it was over. Considering the chunk taken out of his neck, it was morbidly logical that the head tilted back and then was only attached by a length of meat.

“Hmm,” he managed quietly, contemplatively, as his gaze was caught again on what he knew to be an _impossibility_.

Somehow, this sight seemed even more unfeasible than the woman who was dressed in garb that would have been used over a hundred years before. Because, for some reason, _that_ made more sense to the jounin than the sight of the man perhaps his own age standing nonchalantly and flicking a few stray drops of blood from his hand.

Pale silvery white hair, the shades of white brighter than his own, but the silvery gray shades darker, making a strange shifting play of light and shadow on the man’s scalp, was short, shorter than Kakashi’s was. The sides were cut close while the top was kept longer, and the strands themselves were spiky enough to be familiar. Though the weight of his bangs seemed to pull it down and to the side, laying it more or less flat but with all of the longer strands tilted a little more to the left in the same way that the jounin’s cowlicks made his hair stand. Though his bangs fell straight into Kakashi’s eyes when he had no hitai-ate to hold them back, as they didn’t then.

Thin white brows with a shape to them that made him seem perpetually curious were a bit shorter than his were, definitely paler. It made skin that was just as pale as Kakashi’s look darker than it was when compared to the white of his brows. Almond shaped, calm eyes with a quizzical glint to them were perhaps a tad wider than Kakashi’s. Though not nearly as large as Rika’s were, they were surrounded by lashes as dark as the other man’s were, though they looked darker because of the vibrant, startling color of his eyes.

Instead of the mostly cloth mask that the woman had, this man’s mask was made out of what appeared to be entirely metal. Possibly with some bone thrown in, though from this distance it was hard for the previously presumed only surviving Hatake to tell, and it was elaborately detailed from where it sat across the bridge of his nose and extended to cover his features.

The imagery of fangs started at where the tip of the nose would be if the metal and possibly bone mask hadn’t rounded out rather than conforming to the features as it did in much more modern versions of the Hatake Clan mask. Fangs gleamed white silver, not matte and dull like the rest of the mask was, the rather intimidating visage stopping just a little above where he assumed the man’s chin was. Framing the impressive set of fangs was an almost beautiful amount of detail work that looked like a mixture of wolves and lightning.

There was what appeared to be a mountain, like the border on a tapestry, telling a story that made the ANBU captain’s chest ache softly with the knowledge of what it said. The mask fitted down over the shorter haired man’s chin and just to the top of his throat, obscuring the shifting of jaw muscles that might preclude a jutsu. Or any kind of expression, should one not be versed in reading _just_ the eyes of a person. 

As the man turned, he noted that there was a metal clasp at the back of his head, the base of his skull, that was likely chakra triggered to remove it. Those same slightly tapered ears sat a little sharper on the man’s head than they did on the woman’s, the tips more obviously pointed. The cartilage was pierced several times until a single gauge shaped like a fang rested in each lobe, tiny and barely noticeable in comparison to the loops and cuffs on the cartilages.

Covering his throat was a similar collar to the one that Rika wore, though this one looked a tad more beaten up than hers did, warped in some places. Looking like he’d had more than one violent encounter that meant he’d been fighting for dominance with another Clan member who’d gotten close enough to try to rip out his throat with their claws or teeth.

Rough dark cloth ran the length of the man’s torso, but could barely be seen except for on his upper arms, seeing as he had an elaborate, rather gorgeously put together overlapping kind of armor that slid in a solid plate over his chest until it tapered at his sternum. The plates overlapped over his sides until his hips, allowing for movement as the skillfully made armor shifted with his movements easily, fluidly. On his right shoulder was a simple sheath of double butted six in one _kusari_ chain armor and the mangled leftovers of a shoulder guard that had likely been ripped off in an attack. On his left, however, there was a snarling wolf’s head of a tasteful size, a little dinged but otherwise in perfect order.

Forearms bore dinged bracers as well, though there was a metal extension that covered the back of the hand. It appeared to be attached to some kind of dark cloth or leather that looped around his middle finger on each hand, seemingly not adversely affecting his range of motion in hand or wrist.

On this man’s fingertips there were claws as well, thicker and longer than the woman’s were, and one hand spotted with blood that he was still flicking off even as he looked back at Kakashi with interest.

Rather beaten plates of metal sat on shins and thighs, though the ones of the thighs were situated towards the outside of the leg rather than front covering for the shins, and apparently the tendons on the back of the ankles with an extra plate. The backs of his knees were covered by a connecting _kusari_ to match that which adorned his armor-less shoulder, protecting the vulnerable tendons that sat there. Underneath all of that was a dark material to match that of his shirt, what looked like an armored pouch sitting on the back of his left hip that blended in seamlessly with the elegantly dangerous ensemble. Ending it, was a pair of sandals with metal plates covering the top of the foot and the heel, low enough not to disturb the armor plates on his lower legs.

Sure, this man’s armor was more impressive than Rika’s was, and something out of a Hatake legend more than anything else, but it was the eyes that caught him.

Bright, blinding blue that was so clear as to almost be as white as the chakra they bore with as a part of the Clan legacy. There was a thin line of a darker but still not _dark_ blue rimming the iris to make it more defined than that of a Hyuuga’s pupil-less gaze. Those eyes stared back at him with no caution, no suspicion, no guile, nothing but a curiosity and interest that shouldn’t _be_.

Because while it was sort of believable that the woman might exist, since her features were more plausible despite the generations of lacking Hatake family inheritance. But, what this man wore, what his eyes said, couldn’t exist. He couldn’t possibly be real.

Not unless they were somehow over _five hundred years_ in the past, that was.

What in the hell was going on?

Vaguely, he was aware of Raido glancing at him with relief, but his focus was mainly on the man who was sedately making his way over towards him. Who was not shifting his gaze away for even a moment as he ran those impossible eyes over the jounin’s form, apparently cataloguing injuries on his person.

It was… the sensation was like his father finding after a day of training on his own. Protective.

What the fuck.

They were the same height, he found, as the armored visage stood before him, his scent hitting combined with Rika’s Kakashi jarring enough that he rumbled back at the two when they greeted each other sub vocally with a hum. An expression of his consternation and confusion with the entire situation, matching expression adorning his features beneath his mask that had the woman glancing over at him with something like understanding.

“This is Nao,” the female stated with a low, smooth voice with a hint of rasp that said she didn’t speak often. “In a roundabout way, he is the reason that we are here.”

“Is he now,” was his reply to this, studying the calm, pale eyes that watched him unwaveringly. “I’d like to hear how that happened then, because the last I knew, I was the only Hatake left.”

This made the woman’s eyes flinch and widen in shock and horror, something like pain filtering into her scent as she hitched a breath in shock, making a low noise of distress at the information.

Information that was apparently new to her.

Her reaction had him pulling his dark gaze away from the man whose brows had furrowed sadly, and had made a low sound of grief that felt strangely shared with the jounin. He directed his attention near entirely on the woman who was apparently the two impossible Hatake’s spokesperson.

Because really, he couldn’t doubt that they were Hatake, not when they _smelled_ so much like Clan. He should though, he really, really should.

He just…

It had been so _long…_

“Bear, Crow,” he said after a long moment, suddenly feeling terribly weary with the shock in her eyes. The horror. “Inside. Pakkun, stay with them. Our hosts and I need to talk.”

They affirmed his orders and left them, though his Summon nuzzled briefly against his ankle. Which he appreciated though he knew that whatever it was that these two had to say would likely not be something he could be comforted about. Really, the implications were numerous, and he would need to wait until he heard _their_ explanation before he could actually confirm any of his theories.

Exhaling sharply to catch their attention, the one named Nao tilted his head back and glanced upward in question before he leapt gracefully atop the lip of the cave to an overhang that was situated some twenty feet above them. Though the woman appeared to still be shaken, she followed after a long moment, and he himself jumped up last, careful of his still tender side. There was a makeshift cushion of gathered and woven long grass that spoke of the use of this place for keeping watch. Or perhaps simply enjoying the view of the sky unhindered by the heights of the trees that grew on the outskirts of the Land of Fire.

Likely a mixture of both.

Neither of them offered him aid as he eased himself into a sitting position with his aching body, though they did watch him carefully. The woman’s gaze more critical than the strangely open one of the man who’s eyes both disturbed and strangely fascinated him.

“I believe I must start at the beginning,” Rika started after a few minutes of quiet where they simply observed one another. “Though the tale itself is something rather fantastical and is something that I myself have some trouble believing at times, though I have lived a portion of it.”

Her silvery brows furrowed as her eyes unfocused a little with thought, gathering her words for an explanation.

“I met Nao almost three months ago now for myself,” she started. “And before that, my life was as it should be. I was apprenticing with a Clan healer, had earned a steady place in the hierarchy that would guarantee my future progeny a clean, stable pack in which to grow towards adulthood. Already I was being considered for a command position of a lower grouped pack as Alpha Bitch, and considering my relative youth this was something of an accomplishment,” she shifted a little in place, and he gazed steadily at her, taking in her words for the hints that they were. _I think I might be crazy, Sensei, Obito._ “There was a battle with the split off branch of the Inukai, and while we were not doing poorly, they had greater numbers and a number of our combatants were not as seasoned as their main forces were. Perhaps we would have won, would have returned to the Den though it would have been with many a casualty, but I will never know.”

Dark blue eyes looked over at the calmly, placidly attentive man in the impossible armor, whose gaze had yet to leave Kakashi's form.

“From the center of the battlefield, a great burst of white family chakra slammed through the battlefield, stunning many, and killing a number of the opposing Inukai forces. Unknown, strange fuuinjutsu arrays spread across the ground and over the cliff faces, pulling chakra from those of our Clan who had enough to spare, and then a… a _tear_ opened in the very air itself. Struggling with some unknown nin in full body black with a strange red and black bat like symbol on the chest and back, was Nao. Shortly after falling through what was found to be a portal of some kind, he proceeded to kill his adversary whose body dissolved in some strange jutsu. And then after taking stock of the situation, joined up with our Clan forces and ended up driving the remaining Inukai to retreat from our rebuttal. Despite his clear Hatake heritage, we were at first reluctant to approach him, and communication proved… difficult.”

The woman smoothed her bangs down with a hand, sighing almost tiredly as if the very thought of what had occurred exhausted her.

“He spoke in no dialect that we had ever encountered before, his diction so old, so _fractured,_ that we could barely understand a few words here and there as we struggled to communicate. Eventually, an Elder was called, and the decision was made to bring him back to the Den to further study the strange phenomenon that had brought him forth. Into what we _suspected_ was the future for him, considering the great physical and behavioral differences between him and the Clan of my time.”

_Of her time._

Well, that was one unfortunate theory that was getting a workout.

Kakashi absently massaged his stiff fingers with his opposing, uninjured hand and furrowed his brow a little at the incredulity he felt towards the entire situation. Admittedly, he had more than a little doubt coloring his thoughts as she continued to speak. It was also spiking some memory that was tickling not grabbing his attention.

Which had something like dread pooling in his gut, because if this story was causing something to come to the fore with recognition, then there was the possibility that he might not simply be insane.

“Nao picked up our language rather quickly, had an easier time working out what we were saying than we did him, considering the evolution of grammar had started with his own language as the root. Somehow, I ended up assigned to keep him out of trouble, and for nearly two months he managed to do little more than aid us in skirmishes against intruders and helping to wrangle the pups. Well, when he wasn’t torturing us in the name of training,” ah, was that a genetic trait? “It was all going rather well, when a whole contingent of those unknown nin arrived through another tear on another battlefield. To close it, Nao said that he needed to go through and pull it shut behind him, since that strange fuuinjutsu array was once again appearing and it was centered around him. While engaged in combat with the enemy, I was thrown into his path as he was starting into the portal. He protected me from a bladed projectile, and I ended up falling through with him.”

At this point, the formerly last living Hatake was pinching the bridge of his nose, because this story was definitely ringing more than a few bells, though he couldn’t quite remember the exact details. The memory of going through the old journals of the Clan Heads of the past, and a number of entries that he’d skimmed from Hatake Shinkom was brought to the forefront of his mind.

The exhaustion that Rika had displayed before was perceivable within his own storm cloud dark eye.

Those journals had been dated to around 150 years before.

Oh, damnit, why was it always him?

Even his ANBU team had bad luck.


	5. YYH - Character Growth

Awareness was sharp and painful, full of fear and the overwhelming sense that she was going to be consumed, that her brief, intense existence would be smothered.

It really couldn’t have been a more unpleasant experience, to realize that she existed. That she had thoughts and a presence, only to know immediately that that very thing she had just become aware of was threatened by something old, something powerful.

Something _other_ that she had no name for.

Strangely enough, she felt no connection to a physical shell, no need to shift limbs to try and escape from the danger that seemed to enshroud her. That was coalescing into a shape, whereas she was just becoming conscious to the fact that another, lighter, weaker presence was, one that felt that same fear she did, that same sharp, insensate terror and awakening that had hit her.

She felt it get devoured, felt that wave of disturbing, all encompassing _other_ overtake that tiny, tiny pure light. Felt it succumb to that which had brought them into thought and feeling in what she felt was a wrong time. In a way that they shouldn’t have been.

Forbidden.

And so, she lived.

~*~

She had died.

It wasn’t until she was born again after she didn’t know how long of existing next to the ancient, powerful but less somehow entity, that she realized this. The one that had consumed and taken the place of the tiny light that had been similar to her but _not_. Not until after she gained something like awareness over what felt almost like limbs, but she could barely shift at all. Mostly for fear of drawing the attention of that which lived in the confined, warm space with her, even though she felt edgy and in possession of too much energy. Twitchy, in a way.

Being born into the world again was something that she couldn’t quite comprehend, couldn’t really remember in a way that made sense. Which really, she was thankful for, but was a marker for what had happened to her. For quite some time, her body felt fuzzy and uncontrollable, her vision nothing but a blur of blobs that didn’t even make shapes out of the color. Less of a Picasso painting and more like Starry Night in a dark room surrounding her no matter where she looked or how close something was.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t bored.

Her entire world had been cut down to the two voices – one male and one female. They were all she could hear. She couldn’t understand them not only because they sounded muffled and watery as if there was cotton in her ears, but also because they spoke no language that she was familiar with.

Everything was either the soft, scratchy warmth of her blanket and clothes, the discomfort of hunger and the burning humiliation and resignation of a dirty diaper… or the soothing, swish of warm bathwater against her skin.

That, and the terror.

Her constant, never ending companion, that fear.

Because that thing, that frightening, ancient but somehow _less_ being of _other_ had followed her into the living world. It had taken the place of what she assumed was her twin, though she didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl that would have been her sibling. Didn’t know if somehow it could destroy her as it had that tiny life it had punted out of existence in the womb, so she tried not to draw its attention. She was quiet and only fussed a little when the hunger became too much.

She learned _quickly_ that the feeling of malice that it exuded would sharpen if she didn’t kick up a fuss about getting her diaper changed as soon as she’d soiled it, as if it was offended at the smell or the indignity.

The creature didn’t make much noise either, only in the same way that she did. Which seemed to please the man and woman that were her new parents and its possibly chosen incubators for whatever purpose it had, though she could think of none. Not that she would dare to think she knew anything about the workings of a creature so disturbing and terrifying as this one, one that had taken out that weaker light that could have someday been her brother or sister.

Her vision and hearing cleared after a time. She became more and more aware of her surroundings, and despite her misgivings and the constant state of fear that she lived in, she couldn’t help her curiosity with her surroundings and her new parents. It was during her first actual days of sight and hearing that she finally learned her name and that of the creature that had apparently taken over the body of her would have been brother.

No, the name of her brother who had died before he was born, who hadn’t had a chance to exist. She didn’t know what its name was, but she knew that she could never call it by the name that her parents had so carefully picked out for the son that they would never actually have.

She was Kazue. Minamino Kazue.

Her dead brother was Shūichi.

Sometimes she prayed for him, for Shūichi, prayed that he would get a second chance the way that she had, that he would be able to be reborn into a loving family, but one that wasn’t plagued by the eerie coldness of the creature that had stolen his body from him. Every day passed with a tiny word for her never to be born sibling, and it was cathartic, in a way, to be able to have a name to place to that weaker, smaller light that would have been her baby brother.

The thing that wore her brother’s living corpse pretty much ignored her and she tried to stay out of its way. Not wanting to draw its attention as she had been trying not to do since her inception into this new existence, and she slowly began to absorb an understanding of the language that her parents spoke.

Some of her fear was curbed by apathy and resignation but her curiosity didn’t die down, and she was ravenous for information, to learn about this second chance. Either it would destroy her, or it wouldn’t, she had no such thing as say in the matter.

So, with a prayer of apology for her deceased twin, she lived her life as fully as she could.

~*~

While their bodies aged, Kazue noticed how the creature that wore her brother’s body – now more its than it had ever been her brother’s – became bored quite easily. That despite how it looked at both of her parents _and_ her with something like a mixture of disgust and impatient disinterest, it… played with her.

Not as in it psychologically tested her mind or tried anything untoward, no sort of mental trauma was put upon her. Well, not consciously, perhaps.

Honestly, would she know?

Still, to her knowledge, it didn't play with her mental state actively even if she was under constant strain, seemingly unaware of her feelings, but it honest to god _played_ with her.

Once crawling was an option, if she was fiddling with some blocks or whatever toy that lit up and played quiet music, it would move over towards her after some time of simply observing her silently. Then, _then_ , it would either hand her blocks to stack up or it would press buttons that she couldn’t reach on whatever electric toy it was.

The first time she’d stared in shock, because it had never interacted with her before. When they were given soft books filled with more pictures than unfamiliar writing, it would point out the words to her silently and then it would point to whatever toy matched up with the word.

To be quite frank, it was as disturbing as it was fascinating.

Was an eldritch abomination _supposed_ to get bored enough to play with toddlers? Did it know that Kazue was _more_ than a normal human child, no matter how vague her knowledge of who she had been was?

The creature appeared to be just as bored as she was, but it didn’t have the newness of learning a language from scratch to keep it occupied, so it would start teaching her things instead. It sounded vaguely Asian, the language, though Kazue couldn’t for the life of her tell what one it was, and the writing was at least not Thai, she knew that much.

To be frank, she couldn’t remember her own _name_ from before, so this wasn’t as upsetting as one could think.

Somehow, their parents never seemed to pick up on the fact that the changeling child was intelligent and ancient and something not human at all. Didn’t notice when it began to teach her how to associate the letters – kanji, hiragana and katakana – with persons, colors, things. While it was sort of understandable in the case of her father since he was rarely if ever home, always working, with her mother?

Her new mother, Shiori, was… well, it boggled the mind that the stay at home mother hadn’t seemed to notice just how _strange_ that which was supposed to be her son was.

Honestly, the fact that two dark haired, darker skinned Asians had managed to birth a pale skinned _redheaded_ child with bright _green_ eyes could perhaps have been a clue as to how unnatural their boy child was.

Although, Kazue had to admit, there was really no reason for them to suspect that their child had been switched out with some ancient, dangerous being. Especially since it had happened even before birth, so the true story of a changeling taking the place of a child didn’t exactly fit in this case. There was also the very real fact that she herself was a bit different than her two new parents were in appearances as well, though nowhere near as oddly bright colored as the creature had grown to be.

Still, the woman who was now a child was both curious and terrified.

As seemed to be her new default setting.

~*~

“Book,” it stated with a smooth, confident voice, one that seemed a little out of place in the body of a year and half old toddler. “Now Kazue.”

“Book,” she repeated dutifully, interested despite herself. “Book.”

Her vocal cords were harder for her to wrangle than they were for the creature. Kazue didn’t know if that was because it wasn’t human or if the body that it wore was developing faster than her own, despite hers having been born first. So to pass the time, apparently, it had taken to teaching her how to talk, though sometimes she got distracted by other things. Like sounds in the distance – her mother singing as she cleaned or folded laundry, even as she cooked – or the texture of whatever it was she was holding. The attention span of a toddler wasn’t exactly the best.

Though hers was better than she remembered her… nieces’? being in her previous life when they were her age.

That… that was weird to even think, though.

“Kazue,” was the firm tone that brought her out of staring at the refracted light from a prism hanging from the ceiling. “Pay attention.”

Blinking as she turned away from the rainbow on the wall, she looked at it expectantly for whatever word it was that it was going to help her with next, noting that it’d taken out one of the books with the words.

“Good. Now, say ‘I am’, Kazue.”

“I a-am?” she stumbled a little, and she felt her features twist a little with worry at her failure, as always, unsure as to what its reaction would be, though it had yet to harm her at all. “I am?”

“Better,” it mused, because she had difficulty with starting sentences with ‘I’ rather than Kazue, for some unfathomable reason. When they'd first started this speech work, she'd said a lot of 'Kazue is' “Much better, Kazue.”

And despite herself, despite the way that she still instinctively feared the creature that had taken the Shūichi she would never know from her, Kazue was _happy._ She felt her chest warm, her cheeks flushing as she grinned brightly at its praise, something rare. The creature was never kind to her, but it was also never cruel in the way that it could be with her parents. It was always trying to invoke a psychological trauma of some kind on her always working father – not helping the fact that he was rarely if ever home – and never even pretending at affection of any kind with her mother.

It treated her parents like servants. Like toys. Even though she knew that to it, _she_ was just another toy, just another thing to keep it entertained while it waited for the body it inhabited to grow enough for it to be able to leave or do whatever it was that it had stolen the body for in the first place… she didn’t _hate_ it.

Feared it, certainly. Didn’t understand it. Healthily respected it more than anything or anyone else she knew, but she didn’t hate it. Even though it had taken any chance she had at a brother from her, she didn’t detest it. She could no more despise an animal for doing something she couldn’t comprehend than she could hate it.

“Now, say ‘I am Kazue’.”

“I am Kazue.”

“Again.”

“I am Kazue!”

~*~

School, when it started up, was… difficult.

Immediately, Kazue knew that she wouldn’t have very many friends, if any. She had no doubts that the creature wouldn’t have any either.

Mostly, this was because humanity in general seemed to disgust it, like they were beneath it, but also because they were… strange. The two of them didn’t quite mesh with everyone else.

They weren’t loud and playful, they weren’t quiet and shy; if anything, they were rather solemn in comparison to children their supposed age. While she herself was curious about people outside of her family since she’d rarely met up with others, _it_ was cold and distant from the children that surrounded them. This, of course, led to them being ostracized by the others for being strange, for not being like they were.

Bullying was a thing that happened.

As she had been living her new life in a constant state of fear of a creature that had consumed her brother, it was relatively simple to sigh and shrug off these things. Like the fact that her pencils disappeared, her papers got ripped, and sand was put into her backpack to make everything gritty like a nasty surprise when she put her hand inside.

All of this was relatively petty, and easily dealt with, so she said nothing to the teachers and did nothing in retaliation. They were just kids, really, and they weren’t hurting anyone.

Well, no one that couldn’t handle it with something similar to emotional maturity.

Kazue knew that if they hadn’t had her as their target they’d take out their childish frustrations on another hapless kid. One who _didn’t_ have the maturity of an adult to fall back on and the experience of living on the edge of terror every waking moment. Sure, her emotions were still volatile because of the hormones of childhood even if she was relatively mild of personality. Maybe sometimes she’d sniffle when her eyes watered out of irritation or impatience with the whole thing, but she never actually cried and it was rare for it to get to her at all.

The creature hated it when she cried, and so, she stuffed tears away for the day when she didn’t live with it and could weep openly and freely without fearing for her life.

She’d never been much of a crier, anyway.

Almost by instinct, the children knew not to mess with _it_ in the way that they did Kazue, instead taking out the unease that he generated in them on her. Seeing as she was the safer, less disturbing target Kazue could understand why they did. Because that bleak, apathetic gaze of green in pretty childish features was chilling and she rarely if ever could bring herself to meet its eyes. If she couldn’t do so, normal children _definitely_ couldn’t, and because she didn’t want to know what it might do to hapless human children in revenge for whatever harmless prank they could have pulled on it…

She didn’t even mind that she was the sole target of their petty ire.

If she never had to feel another light snuffed out like she’d felt Shūichi’s, it was too soon.

~*~

She was in the other room when it happened.

When her entire world shifted on its axis and all that she knew, all that she had known since that moment of terrifying awareness started to… _change._

Her mother screamed, a single, terrified word.

“ _Shūichi_!”

Then, the sound of bodies slamming into the ground along with shattering glass had her heart freezing in her chest.

Despite how she had feared for her new life for every waking moment of her six years as Kazue, she had never really thought of if the creature might harm her parents. A perhaps entirely selfish thought, but she'd feared that it would want to remove the competition for survival and for their parents’ attention. Which, to be honest, was completely ridiculous because she _knew_ that it could kill. That it had no regard for human life, but it was just logical for her to assume that for now it needed her parents alive, that for the façade of a six year old boy to be upheld, it needed as few complications in its life as possible. That meant that it couldn’t remove the parental units it needed for whatever game it was playing, so it wouldn’t remove them.

Even hearing the sound of her mother screaming, finding her body moving without her permission towards the kitchen at a scrambling run, the thought didn’t cross her mind.

And it wouldn’t, until _much_ later, when she was laying in the darkness of her room. Staring up at her ceiling and running the events of the day over in her mind as she was wont to do in this new life.

The sight that greeted her eyes from the doorway was of her mother’s features paling, of crimson staining her arms and steadily pooling beneath the woman’s legs. Shiori stared with a pained sort of relief that was completely outshined by the absolute, unadulterated _love_ that radiated from every pore of her being. Not a foot from Shiori, with features showing more emotion in shock than it ever had before, sat the creature.

It was staring at the woman with wide, stunned green eyes and some kind of confusion and lack of understanding that Kazue had no idea of how to translate, not when her heart was in her throat.

Swiftly, she moved and picked up the phone, calling emergency services and stammering out the situation, before she ran forward and grabbed a dish towel to press against the gushing wounds, trying to stem the bleeding. This was her mother, and though Shiori wasn’t the best towards her daughter, she cared in a wholehearted way that Kazue really couldn’t deny. She didn’t want the woman who had given her second life and cared for her, rocked her to sleep with soft humming and warm hands, to bleed out in front of her.

To die in their kitchen when she’d promised to bake cookies with her only hours before, to talk about signing her up for club activities.

Still, it sat there, staring into the tired, loving eyes of her silently crying mother. It stayed there until the paramedics arrived and they began to treat her mother, only moving to the side to stare at the dark haired, dark eyed woman that had birthed the body that it wore. She who had taken care of it for the past six years with love and dedication.

Its lack of expression was so complicated that it was painful to look at.

“Are… are you hurt?” her mouth asked softly, shakily, without her express permission. “You… didn’t get cut, did you?”

Her words of concern were genuine, much to her own faint surprise, because while this creature that wore her brother’s skin terrified her more than anything else, it was still… she didn’t know what. Kazue didn’t know, but she still cared enough about it after sharing her new life with it that she didn’t know what she’d do if it was gone, or if it was injured.

It had never been hurt before, never even sick, though she had gotten colds like any other child did. So the thought of this creature that she had been aware of even longer than the brief spark that had been Shūichi disappearing or wavering at any point was… disturbing. Discomfiting. Worrying.

Perhaps she had some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome?

Whatever it was, while it was curious in a detached sort of way, it didn’t change her feelings at all.

The sound of her voice seemed to cut through whatever haze it had been standing in, simply staring at the scene before it, and green eyes sliced over to her to stare at her contemplatively. Wincing at the intensity, her own gaze darted to the floor and she twisted her blood covered hands together, staring down at them as her chin and lips wobbled slightly. Internally swearing as her eyes started watering, she swallowed passed the knot in her throat, the fear for her mother’s life that she’d felt catching up through the adrenaline.

Still, she didn’t know how damaged Shiori was, if perhaps a nerve had been hit or a tendon severed by the accident and being caught under that stare wasn’t helping her already shot nerves as she started to tremble. There was always the chance of infection as well, though that was if the blood loss didn’t do terrible things to her…

Medicine wasn’t as good as she remembered in being, undefined though those memories were.

“I’m uninjured,” it stated quietly, in a sort of tone it had never used before. “Shiori… protected me.”

It never called her parents mother and father, always their names. For some reason, while it had never seemed to have bothered her mother, the act bothered her father more than Kazue could truly guess.

For a man who didn’t know his supposed son was a monster, Kazue thought that her father did better than others would in the same place.

“Why…” when it stopped speaking, she glanced over quickly to see its brows furrowed intensely. “Why did she do it?”

“Okaa-san loves you,” she answered a little uncertainly, unsure as to whether it actually wanted her to answer. “She loves you more than anything.”

“But what does that _mean_?”

“It means everything. She’d rather suffer, she’d rather die, than let anything bad happen to you,” staring as she was at her blood encrusted hands, she was unaware of those eyes staring at her with inhuman focus. “It means that she literally loves you more than life itself. More than her own happiness and comfort. It means that she would sacrifice _anything_ for you. It means that you’re her child and that she’s your mother, and there is nothing a mother wouldn’t do to protect her child.”

That was… that was a mother’s love. That was Shiori’s selfless, beautiful, simplistic and oh-so complicated love for her children. For them.

Because, even though this creature might not be Shūichi, it was still Kazue’s mother’s son. Even though she really couldn’t understand it, was still a part of their family even though it wasn’t her little brother.

If anything, it was…

“We love you,” she sniffed and wiped furiously at her face with a clean part of her sleeve to remove the tears she knew it hated. “We love you, and we don’t want you to be hurt.”

Even as the words left her mouth, she knew that they were a revelation and nothing but the truth, because she didn’t hate this creature who had probably been following its nature. Whatever that might be.

If anything, she was a little fond of it.

Yeah, she’d even say that it was possible that she loved it, though she wasn’t certain. Perhaps if she ever got to know more about it than its icy veneer and thin veil of disdainful boredom, her thoughts and feelings in regards to it would become more clear, but at that time, it really didn’t matter. It was enough that she cared.

“I… don’t completely understand.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to. Whether you understand or not doesn’t change how we feel.”


	6. Blue Exorcist - Found Family

He didn’t know what it was called, exactly, but he could already sense that it was a place meant for children. There were such pure, unfettered emotions lingering in the _maho_ that he was quite sure there as nothing else it could be.

So he curiously made his way into the yard filled with strange metal equipment – oh, that’s a swing! He knew what swings were! – and inspected things. He was looking hopefully for instructions but not particularly upset by the fact that the strange metal figures weren’t labeled. Perhaps as time went by there would be children to teach him what these things were, or he would discover their purpose on his own.

It was always more interesting to be surprised, to have curiosity sated by discovery rather than having direct, analytical and impersonal instruction.

“Hmm, I’ll wait, then,” he said easily, finding a perch on a swing since he knew how to use them and what they did. “I’ll ask the Obaa-san to tell me about this place tomorrow.”

Strangely, something tickled his senses and he sneezed quietly in surprise. An odd sensation, sneezing. He wondered how humans did it so often.

When he looked up owlishly, there was a young boy barreling into the yard with him, tears on his face as he sniffled but had teeth bared. Expression contorted in what likely was supposed to be a snarl but looked more like a weepy grimace. If he were more socialized with humans of that time period, he might realize that the boy’s teeth were a bit sharper than a humans were meant to be, but alas, he was not.

The boy had dark hair, a black that had a blue sheen to it, and his skin was pale beneath a layer of dust and dirt. The kind that suggested he’d been playing outside, the dirt smudged across t-shirt and shorts further adding to this idea.

Clothing was strange in these times, he had decided, and he vaguely wondered if they wore kimono at all anymore but for the Obaa-san.

“Are… are you okay?” he found himself asking softly, a little shyly, because it had been a very long time since he’d talked to anyone but the Obaa-san. The current physical incarnation he had was young and uncertain despite the many years he’d existed. “Are you hurt?”

At his voice, the boy looked up sharply and he found himself caught by dark sea blue eyes that glittered with tears. The shock and embarrassment that twisted pale childish features gave him pause and he found himself ducking his head unsurely to stare at the ground.

“I –” the boy sniffled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh… a-are you sure?” he glanced up from under his lashes worriedly. “You’re all dirty.”

“Yeah, totally!” and suddenly that messy, runny face was covered by a bright grin that had previously unsure eyes widening in surprise. “I was just a little upset, that’s all!”

“Oh,” he repeated again, stunned by the fierce, pure expression on pale features. “That’s good. I mean, I’m glad you’re okay.”

For some reason, this caused an almost disbelieving look to cross those grinning features, only for pale cheeks to flush instead and that wide smile to somehow get even wider and happier. Oh, was the emotion of before something forced, to console him rather than to portray genuine happiness? That was saddening, in a way. Children should be genuine, not pressed by the adult desire to be seen as something they weren't. To project an image.

That, however, was a sadness that he remembered.

Unfortunately.

“Thanks!” the boy chirped. “I’m Rin! What’s your name?”

“Ah, um, Rei, I’m called Rei.”

Still grinning, the boy with the bright blue eyes wiped his bare forearms across his face to remove the tears and snot. The action smearing dirt more across his features as he did so before he looked up at Rei who sat on the swing with curious yet still slightly shy features. It had been a long time since he’d spoken to anyone other than the old woman of the shrine. Before the old woman, there was a stretch of time where words hadn’t really been something he could remember hearing at all, just flashes of sensation that would shiver through the shrine.

He knew that he’d been bigger once, that he’d been stronger and more intelligent; that the years without contact with the world had diminished him even if he was content as he was.

“Wanna play with me, Rei-chan?” there was something a little uncertain on the boy’s dirty features as he asked.

“Ah, uh, okay.”

The warmth and emotion that shifted over those pale features was almost heartbreaking.

“Great! What do you want to do first?”

“I… um…”

How did human children normally play, these days?

“Well, we could start out swinging, if you want?”

A surge of relief.

“Okay.”

“Cool!”

~*~

Somehow, this became routine for Rei.

Meeting up with the boy named Okamura Rin for a few hours every couple of days at the park.

The happy go lucky boy with the pretty blue eyes had at first been surprised by the fact that Rei didn’t know what a good portion of the playground equipment was for. Rin had definitely been delighted to teach him how to play on the monkey bars, teeter totter, merry go round and other things, however.

“Hey, hey, Rei-chan!”

At the call of his name by his new friend, the currently a child looked over from where he’d been having a staring contest with a baby Tengu that tended to follow him around. The little thing had taken the guise of a small blackbird as was common for its kind.

“I brought a lunch that we can share!”

It probably sensed the power of possibility that Rei carried, was hoping to ride on the tail of it so that it, too, might grow.

There was little chance that Rei would ever be again what he once was, but it was a good omen in any case.

“Rin,” smiling at the sight of the energetic boy, he ignored the strange tingle in the back of his nose that always accompanied him. “You didn’t have to bring anything. I don’t mind when you eat on your own.”

“But it’s lonely to eat all alone,” he pouted back, before pulling Rei by his wrist towards the grass to sit down. “I want to eat lunch with you! Yukio is working on homework or something, and everyone else is so busy with something that Tou-chan was talking about that I didn’t understand, so I haven’t been able to eat with anyone all week!”

“Oh,” he blinked at the reveal of a rather weighty serving set before him, full of beef and pickled vegetables and a lot of other things. “This looks really good, Rin.”

A beaming smile that made his face heat up was directed his way, and he couldn’t help but direct his gaze towards the ground, rubbing at his nose as the tingling sensation got a little stronger.

“Yeah? I made it myself! If you have anything that you want made special, I’ll totally make it for you!”

Chopsticks in hand with a piece of broccoli at the end, Rei bit his lip as he studied his new friend, wondering if it was really okay to ask. Seeing as the Obaa-san really wasn’t up to cooking for more than herself, and generally left that to the woman across the street since she couldn’t stand for long periods of time. Although it wasn’t exactly a necessity for him to eat, it did help him to keep his form, and doing so would help him to save up energy for if he, the Obaa-san, or Rin were ever in danger.

Well, in danger from something that couldn’t be combated by humans, though he didn’t know why he was worried about such things. 

The tingle in his nose warmed for a moment before it faded into the background once more.

What would be, would be.

“Really?”

“Mhmm! Totally!”

“Um… then… maybe… aburaage?”

“Fried tofu? Okay! I can do that, don’t worry, Rei-chan!”

“I – I wasn’t _worrying_ about it, Rin, I just… don’t want you to go to any trouble…”

“No trouble! Ehehe, I like to cook for people, it’s best when somebody’s happy with something I’ve made!”

Pleased despite himself, and happy that his new friend was happy, the creature known simply as Rei in his current incarnation smiled softly at the bright grin on Rin’s features. Though quietly happy that he was sad much less often than when they’d first started playing, the old deity still worried.

This quirk to his features unknowingly shocked the dark-haired boy next to him because it was the first time he’d made such an expression in their three weeks of acquaintance, face generally twisted in bemusement and curiosity. Because of the sudden surge of delight this brought forward in the dark-haired boy, he couldn’t contain himself and tackled the much quieter form next to him into the ground.

Thin but strong arms wrapped tightly around him, laughing loudly with his pleasure.

If Rei had actually been human, his ribs would have cracked from the force of the embrace. His organs damaged. As it was, he was not, and so he only laughed in turn and returned the grip, wrapping his arms just as tightly around the other boy.

It was the first hug that Rin had ever received that he hadn’t had to check his strength, though he was unaware of not doing so. When he cried from the subconscious realization, his new friend – his _best_ friend – didn't laugh or make fun of him, merely comforted him while worrying. Hands that were a little smaller than those the blue-eyed boy were petting his hair gently as he choked out sobs of relieved happiness that he didn't fully understand.

This was the first time someone he cared about hadn’t been afraid of his affection.

Small, uncertain lips pressed against his forehead, and suddenly if felt like a cool balm had run over him. It was like the smell of aloe when his father ran it over Yukio's sunburns, lavender in the garden, or the mint in the tea that his father favored after ginseng. Well, when he wasn't guzzling coffee. Sniffing and wiping his teary cheeks, the dark haired too strong boy looked up into the worried golden yellow eyes in pale pretty features and smiled.

It was a good smile. Different from the usual one, because despite being smaller, it was perhaps more genuine and heartfelt for it.

"Do you feel better now, Rin?" was asked hesitantly in that sweet, gentle shy voice, and he couldn't help but beam. "Are you not sad now?"

"Nope! Thanks, Rei-chan!"


	7. Naruto - Found Family

He was considered Elite by the time that he was fourteen, still riding on the last edges of the Warring States form of training and the desire for efficient child soldiers to be bodies thrown at whatever problems arose. He'd first killed a man when he was seven. A woman not long after that. A child when he was ten. Of course, he was proficient, he was good at killing for his newly formed village, following orders as he was given them, just as all other members of the shinobi forces did. Considering he was a handsome enough boy by the time he was twelve, he'd had his fair share of both men and women, whoever caught his eye and he was in a randy mood, seeking to slake a lust that had nothing to do with blood.

To be honest, he'd say that he'd pretty much dealt with all kinds of situations, could handle most things with ease and even something like apathy, and yet...

"Marry me."

"What."

The young woman in front of him was two years older than he was at most, a civilian, and quite honestly, rather attractive with dark hair with purple hints in the sunlight, skin the creamy gold of someone from a southern genealogy, tall and slim enough to be attractively curvy with lean muscles that spoke of hard labor though her hands were well cared for. Her eyes were golden and luminous enough that he knew that if he'd seen her under other circumstances that he'd probably have put some work into bedding her. Possibly several times, just because of how lush her pink lips were and rosy the mounds of her smooth but prominent cheekbones.

Her clothing wasn't anything fancy, the rough cloth of a farmer in a simple faded green short yukata with baggy, serviceable pants underneath. Dainty, well maintained feet that didn’t bear any obvious defects settled in carefully cared for straw sandals. The serviceable clothing covered what he could tell was a curving, feminine form with just enough bosom to fill his hands pleasantly. While he couldn't tell from his angle how rounded her buttocks was, well. He was going to bet it was just as pretty as the rest of her.

_Nice,_ he thought distantly. _Not normally the type that approaches me first, but nice._

"Marry me," she repeated evenly, her voice smooth and light, the kind that was pleasing to the ear. "Please."

"And why should I do that?" he leaned back from where he'd been sitting at the dango stand to frown at her curiously. "I've no need of marriage."

"You want progeny," she stated as a matter of fact, her callused worker's hands on her hips, and unfortunately, he couldn't refute this. "And I want protection. It's a win win. I'm pretty enough to bed more than once without boring you, I'll take care of the housework, cooking, cleaning and basic maintenance; all those things. I don't expect you to be faithful to me, shinobi have needs I likely can't handle on my own, especially in the beginning, but I'd only ask that you not bring them into the house or at least stick to the Red Light District for that."

Blinking at her for a few moments, he glanced down thoughtfully at the empty skewer from his dango, contemplating. Hmm... what the hell, he was probably going to die within five years or so anyway, might as well leave a kid to mourn him or something, right?

"Alright, woman, let's get married. Your name?"

"Amaya."

"Kakuzu. Let's find an officiate, shall we?"

~*~

The house that he'd scrounged up money for with his missions over the years wasn't in horrible condition. Still, the difference in before Amaya had been there to take care of the upkeep and prevent it from getting musty and _after_? Well, it was severe.

He hadn't even been aware that his tatami had been so disturbingly damaged until she'd worked at replacing them, brightening up the house more than he'd expected. Making the house smell cleaner, less enclosed and musty. Her cooking was pretty fucking good too, he admitted, and with the way that she'd cleared a patch in the back yard and set in to plant vegetables that could be grown there so that food costs wouldn't go up overmuch, they were getting much fresher produce just from that.

Some good came from marrying a farmer’s daughter.

Somehow, the woman had finagled a way to make something like a ration bar from one of the old women in the market or something, and he knew that though he could go back to the default brand provided... well, he'd rather not. His wife mended his clothes, cooked, and cleaned for him, all things that she'd said that she would do in her initial abrupt approach of him to demand marriage.

Amaya was even doing things that she _hadn't_ said that she would do, like working part time at a tea house to bring in more money to the household whilst doing all the other things.

When he was not on a mission, he knew that she rose early from her futon set out next to his to tend to the ever blossoming garden she'd started, work on washing the dirty laundry and make breakfast by the time he was up a little after dawn. She set out towels and refreshments for him when he was training, a change of clothes and then set about getting his bath ready for when he was done so that he didn't walk covered in sweat and dirt all day.

To be honest, there wasn't really anything he had to complain about concerning her, and he hadn't even taken her to bed yet.

Married life was, so far, pretty nice, even if she did make him carry groceries and the heavier things around for her, or sat down to watch him when he was doing katas with a sort of wonder on her face that he'd never encountered before, though perhaps it was a civilian thing. He didn't know; he was rarely around them for more than buying things from them in market when still fucked over from whatever mission he'd been on.

She was surprisingly easy company.

All in all… it wasn’t… bad.


End file.
